


Differences

by CeeceePepper



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Abuse Mentions, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Use, F/M, M/M, Other, Smoking, headcanon: BLU v RED, headcanon: female BLU pyro, headcanon: male RED pyro, it's gonna gay, its tf2, probably cursing too, some graphic stuff like fighting?, yknow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-03 08:52:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6604543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeeceePepper/pseuds/CeeceePepper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: Could you perhaps write a Sniper/Spy fic (crossfaction) with the BLU Spy being in love with the RED Sniper? Anything like this will work!</p><p>The BLU Spy loves the RED Sniper. After all they had been through, they were still considered rivals, but the BLU Spy knew that the RED Sniper had more to him than that. And this once-thought rivalry is now being reconsidered, when the RED Sniper spares the BLU Spy in a match, and allows him to flee.</p><p>And at that point, the BLU Spy decides, it might be time to confront the RED bushman and what the hell's going on between them, with the help of a BLU Engineer.</p><p>[I've stopped working on this fic for a while, but I will return one day to maybe finish this...]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mercy

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy. My otp! Lots of time skipping because it's the BLU Spy, who I headcanon to be a lot softer and thoughtful than the RED Spy, whos more hardened and stiff in what he does. Straight and to the point. The BLU Spy is more emotional, kind of a romantic, you know! That's my headcanon at least. And the RED Sniper is also awkward and kind of blunt about things.

The differences between teams were as easy to spot as black and white. They were 18 mercs, all on either a RED or BLU team, trying to settle a decade-long stalemate that had yet to find its conclusion.  
  
But there were so many differences beyond that; like how the RED's Heavy and Medic were borderline insane, and while they got the job done, the BLU's Heavy and Medic did the same, but in the most loving manner. Not slinging bullets like madmen, but staying collaborate and caring for each other on and off the battle field. Not an argument in the spawn, but holding hands during the walk back in, and gentle hugs in between matches.  
  
Or, like how the BLU's Engineer seemed to prefer bluegrass music to play, to cross his left leg onto his right, and sing the softest tunes to comfort the team; in contrast, the RED's Engineer sang more deep country music, crossing his right leg to his left, and always adjusting his hat before starting a toon up, always by the fire and never in front of a team less than 9. A sign of unification that didn't come from the conversations or drinking sessions of the team.  
  
  
Or, how the RED's Sniper always carried the scent of the woods, and sometimes a little bit of pepper, that the BLU Spy couldn't get enough of, even after killing the bushman. BLU's Sniper smelled like something akin to dirt and earth, something the RED Spy always scattered from as soon as he could.  
  
Or like the way RED's Sniper could sometimes see BLU Spy coming, and have a little mini-match with their blades before BLU Spy would get butchered.  
  
Minor differences like these, the BLU Spy thought, were what made the teams each their own. They weren't teams that were exactly the same. Small, unnoticeable things kept the teams sane, and they didn't like to think about the major things. As so, it was a Spy's job to know everybody, in and out.  
  
But while the BLU team sat around their table, the Soldier telling a story that Engineer was leaning in to listen to, and occasionally laughing at, the Spy couldn't help but think about that one specific RED Sniper. The one who, earlier that day, spared his life.  
  


* * *

  
_He panted, his balaclava caked with blood. The Heavy and Medic had gotten their Ubercharge up to 100%, and the entirety of the BLU team was being massacred. Even the RED Spy had killed the BLU Sniper and Medic before they even knew what was coming. Sentries were gone, the health packets and ammunition all were taken by that damned team, and their RED Demoman was full up on sticky bombs. The BLU Spy waited behind a wall, the snow falling softly to the ground around them._  
  
 _He could see a red laser pointed coming nearby, and the swallowed and looked to it's source in fear, pulling out his watch. He went to turn cloak on, but it hadn't fully recharged._  
  
 _He was fucked._  
  
 _The BLU Spy could hear the triumphant cries of the RED team as they began to capture the point again, the Administrator counting down._  
 _He crossed his fingers and watched as the red dot stayed on his head, bracing for the shot. Then it lowered, and after a few seconds, he looked up._  
  
 _The RED Sniper waved his hand, and the BLU Spy watched perplexedly. The team was about to win, why didn't the RED Sniper kill him?_  
 _He held a look to the Sniper, before watching the Heavy and Demoman search for where the last living BLU was floating around to._  
 _The BLU Spy hit his cloak and finally managed to get out of there before they could find him. RED Team still won, but he was able to survive the whole match._  
  


* * *

  
He felt at his gloved hands; they felt oddly cold today. He had excused himself from the meeting room, leaving the building to smoke a cigarette. Compared to the RED Spy, his cigarettes were light, and imported straight from France. The ones he smoked were called something along the lines of vogue jasmine, and it gave off a sweeter scent. He liked them quite a bit; they didn't burn as much and didn't make the rest of the team want to die.  
  
He thought about visiting the RED Sniper, but where would that get him? The other hated his guts, for every time that the BLU Spy had backstabbed the man, the RED Sniper always got him back. The stone cold look on the RED Sniper's face always gave the BLU Spy shivers, but... something about the RED Sniper giving mercy just threw the Spy off. Of course, he'd never expect that kind of treatment again, but something about it oddly delighted the Frenchman.  
  
Come to think of it, every time he'd seen the RED's Sniper around, either in his camper or during an event where both teams had to fight... He seemed like a very pleasent fellow, but talkative was an antonym to the man. He was so straight-forward, so blunt about everything he said. And dissmissive of the Spy, as well. It seemed like he was even pushing away his own teammates.  
  
"Hey, Pardner!" Came a gentle Texas accent, which made the Spy jump. His cigarette fell out of his hand, and he cursed to himself in French as he bent down to retrieve it.  
  
"What the heck are you doin' out here by yourself? You're usually social." The Engineer spoke, stepping out from the building to stand on the tiny concrete stairs, looking at the Spy.  
  
"Thinking, that is all. The commotion inside was... distracting."  
  
Engineer looked to Spy, before crossing his arms and leaning into the doorway.  
  
"Was it about earlier today?" Engineer asked, after a long pause.  
  
The Spy paused, looking to Engineer and taking a drag of the cigarette he had re-lit.  
  
"...Which part of earlier? A lot has happened today." The Spy replied.  
  
"You know which I'm talkin' about, Spy," Engineer rolled his eyes with a smile, "You were the last person alive. We all got our heads blown off by that insane Medic and Heavy, but you managed to make it out and recloak. It was the last thing the Administrator had recorded of our team."  
"  
You watched it all go down?" Spy sputtered a little, taking his cigarette from his mouth, crystalline eyes snapping to the Engineer, who was smiling.  
  
"Of course I did. I always tend to do that, if I've be respawned. That little red dot didn't snap your head off, when it should've. That seems like something that'd make someone like you," Engineer tapped his hardhat, "Think long and hard about."  
  
"And what makes you say this?"  
  
"Come on, don't play me for a fool, Spy," Engineer smiled, "I'm your friend. I know what bugs you and what doesn't. I also know when something unexpected happens, you're going to think that over for every second you live afterward until you can figure out what happened."  
  
Spy kept a long pause, and took a drag of his cigarette one last time, before tossing it to the snow-covered ground. He put the butt out with the tip of his shoe, before stepping back to lean against the wall. He looked to the Engineer.  
  
"I suppose your right." Spy muttered, as he glanced away in thought, "I still just can't wrap my head around it... The RED Sniper was supposed to kill me, right then and there. Why didn't he?"  
  
The Engineer looked to him, "Because he's human?"  
  
"We are all murderers." Spy replied flatly.  
  
"That's true. We kill each other everyday repeatedly, for a living, but we're still people. And if anybody on the RED team is down to earth, it's that fellow. He saw you were in a bundle, and decided to mercy and let you out of there."  
  
"But there has to be a reason. We're enemies, supposed to be rivals even, why would he..."  
  
Engineer sighed. "Well. Why don't you go find out?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Spy stood up straight and looked to him.  
  
"Go find out. Try to talk to him. And if he doesn't talk, come back and call it a day. If he does, well, you got yourself an answer."  
  
The Spy paused, thinking for a moment, before sighing. The Engineer grinned.  
  
"Besides," He smiled, "I saw the way you two would glance at each other during the Machine matches. You'll get an answer."  
  
The Spy watched the Engineer give a little hand wave, and go back inside, his steps slowly fading away. The snow still fell softly, as the Spy came to his conclusion, and walked away.


	2. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Spy and Sniper finally talk for the first time! That, and the Spy starts to feel things he didn't before, starting with jealousy, and a partial melancholy.
> 
> Lonely Spy is lonely. There's also Pyro/Engineer in this chapter! Sorry that this update is so short, I wanted to more focus on the Spy being a bit more emotional than he's used to. There will be more Sniper/Spy development shortly!

Spy was by no means an impatient man. He had done missions where he had sat down in a single area, cloaked for hours on end, just to kill one single man. He had gone places most people would've died in, waited there quietly, silencing all human function to get his job done. But in the frigid temperatures of their current location, his winter gear in his base long across the property, he had become a very impatient man. Especially being outside this man's camper van, holding himself and shivering.  
  
The Spy was going to go and knock on the door, before he saw an owl perched on the edge of the camper van's corner. He was going to tell it to shush, before it started cowling and screaming it's owly noises into the abyss of the snowy night. Spy grunted and rolled his eyes, moving to go and swat at the owl.  
  
The owl simply cooed more, moving to the top of the camper van, in an almost mocking fashion. The Spy never thought, in a million years, that he'd be offended by an owl.  
  
Before the offense and irritation could settle in, the Spy was slung into the snow by the camper van's door, a familiar click of boot heels against the little edge the owl had been previously perched on.  
  
The Spy glanced up to see the shadow of the Sniper, who pulled out a tribalman's shiv and came closer. The Spy sucked in a breath and moved to his back, scooting back as the Sniper got down and pressed the flat of the blade under the Spy's chin, the sharp edge of it pressed against the Spy's throat.  
  
"What're ya doin' here, Spy?" The Australian muttered, "I didn't recall ever askin' for a BLU snake to come to me van."  
  
The Spy let out a cold breath, his hands balling up in the snow. It'd be a shame if he didn't get the chance to talk before being killed and dejectedly sent to respawn, so he decided to let it out quicker than he had planned.  
  
"I wanted to say, _merci_." The Spy muttered out, "For earlier."  
  
"Mercy?"  
  
The Spy rolled his eyes. "No, _merci_. 'Thank you'."  
  
The Sniper looked at him sternly, those brown eyes watching his blue ones harshly, before he stood up off his knee and let the shiv lose. The gangling Sniper turned to go back into his van.

  
"Well, if that's all you came for, then you're welcome. Don't expect it again." The Sniper muttered, tossing his shiv into the van. The owl looked at the silent Spy, cooing and then flying off the back of the van to enter the back door.  
  
The Sniper glanced back at the Spy, who was still there, digging into his suit pocket. The Sniper was fairly certain he was going to get shot or something, so he held a hand against the van door just in case.  
  
The Spy held out a teeny little business card, with nothing on it, but some blue pen's writing, all curly and pretty. The Sniper paused, as the other just held the card out, the snow soaking the edges of his suit and shining his pointy, raven-esq shoes.  
  
The Sniper sighed and stepped out, reaching to take the card. The Spy disappeared when he took it, and he could see little footsteps being made in the snow.  
  
It was a tiny, slightly damp card. But the pretty writing was definitely the BLU Spy's."  
  
"Here's my number. Do with it what you will. Talk to you later."  
  
There was a pretty number in that same blue pen, and some minor blemishes in the writing that were neatly curled out of visibility. The Sniper let up a grin, and shook his head.  
  
"Such a weird bloke." He muttered, going back into his van, the door shutting with a click.  
  
The Spy stood nearby, behind a wall, his face burning red. He held a hand to his heart, letting out a gentle pant. Running through snow was hard enough, but it was even more difficult when he was embarrassed and flustered.  
  
" _Merde_..." The Spy muttered, shaking as he ran back to his own base.

* * *

  
The Spy returned to the base a good five minutes later, finding his drinking room. He tried to do his casual, usual routine: some drinking, some reading. But he just couldn't find the heart to do so. So, the Spy took a few pills of melatonin, blacked out in his cuddly, warm bed, and woke up at the proper hour of 6:00 sharp. He dressed in a new suit, his balaclava finding its way against his snowy face once again, and he was out to the mess hall before most were up.  
  
The exclusion to this were Engineer and Medic. Engineer always ate his toast in the morning, saving a big plate of it for the Pyro and Spy, who would come in a bit later. Engineer also had blue sketching paper on the table, a pencil in his hand, doodling some ideas to graph on the paper. The Medic had a generally same idea, making a cute breakfast to eat for himself and munch on, while making a seperate one for Heavy; he'd most likely bring it to the Heavy in bed, probably to cuddle on him, or something romantic-y like that. Spy was aware the Heavy and Medic were an item, something that wasn't exactly unheard of on their team. It was just the most... expressed out of the rest of the little cadoodling that happened inbetween the hours.  
  
The Spy joined the Engineer at their edge of the table, as he did every morning, taking his own piece of toast to smather some strawberry jam onto; a special kind of jam that Ms. Pauling had ordered for BLU Spy every month. A jar would last about a month, so it worked in his schedule perfectly.  
  
The Spy caught the Engineer watching him with a half-grin, and the Spy put his toast down to look at him.  
  
"Is the smile about what I think it is?"  
  
"You bet, partner. Come on, spill it. What happened?" The Engineer said, leaning his head to one hand and putting his pencil down.  
  
"Nothing of... major importance." The Spy muttered, as calmly as humanly possible, as he took a bite of his toast. He swallowed. "Just shared out greetings, a thank you, and that was that. Though, I did not know he owned an owl."  
  
The Spy shook his head in almost disgust, taking another nip of toast.  
  
The Engineer laughed. "Ya mean Sir Hoots a Lot? I hear other people yellin' at him during the matches, that BLU Sniper treats him like a prince."  
  
The Spy only rolled his eyes, finishing a half of his toast, before the Pyro came in, and the Medic exited. For some reason, the Spy felt a bit of jealousy at the fact that the Pyro could just so casually come in, lift his mask, kiss the Engineer's cheek and then go scamper to gather his side-snacks for the morning. The Engineer noted the bitter look he received, and he rose a brow at the Spy.  
  
"Y'know, you do need to find somebody to keep you company, anyway. You're such a loner, son, you could be a ghost if you wanted to." The Engineer half-teased.  
  
The Spy grimaced, "That's how I'm supposed to be, Engineer. I have to be the ghost, you all shouldn't know a single thing about me. I'm supposed to be an entity."  
  
"But that doesn't have to strip you of who ya are. You're a person, just like the rest of us." The Engineer said, as the Pyro came back over, a plate with gummies and a small cup of jam, and a hot chocolate. The Engineer gave the Pyro a look.  
  
"Aw, come on now, Pyro. You can't eat all those gummies until ya eat somethin' normal, otherwise you'll get a stomach butterfly like ya did last time." The Engineer gently scolded. The Pyro gave a sad 'hudda', which Spy couldn't understand. The Engineer gave a gentle smile."  
  
"You can eat half, and then when the matches are over, you can have the rest."  
  
The Pyro made a happy mutter, knocking the breather of his mask to Engineer's cheek, and sat down. The Spy finished his toast around the same time, dusting the plate off in the nearby waste bin as the Engineer and Pyro sat there, being their semi-romantic selves. He knew the Engineer saw the Pyro as something akin to a sibling, but the man had to be blind not to see how much the Pyro obviously loved the Engineer. It made a weird feeling in the Spy's chest, almost as if the notion poked at the very core of the Frenchman. He set the plate down on the mess hall's counter, passing their Soldier as he left the mess hall.  
  
The Spy went back to his drinking room to read until the time would be called for match start; then, he'd go on with his day, as normal, being the ghost that he was.  
  
After all, there were just certain differences you couldn't get over.


	3. Dangerous Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are gonna get spicy -u-  
> Also, I'm trying to write the Spy as more emotional and the Sniper as more logical, so they balance out. We are also going to get some conflict, hopefully: from not just another person, but also from internal things.  
> Woot.  
> Maybe smut next chapter, who knows? lol

_Day 1_. The weird feeling gnawed at the Spy's core, like a monster clawing, delving into every inch of his being. Like there were spears in his heart, a grip on his lungs, a burning in his throat. It silenced him, withdrew him, caused him a loss of points. He felt eyes on him, and this feeling was something he wanted to go away. He could quiet it that night with wine, some reading, to take his mind off of it. Pray, a cigarette came to his lips, and drowned out the burning, the uneasiness of his mind.  
  
_Day 2_. The gnawing began to soften. It wasn't holding him so fiercely. He was able to quiet it down, he was able to face people again. It was easier that day. Things were much quicker to be forgotten, and the feeling of wine slipping down his throat calmed everything down. Like he could drown it out, the crackling of the fire in his reading room ticking and picking away at the monster that had been pulling at him the day before.  
  
_Day 3_ , and he had forgotten what he was anxious about in the first place. He had started the morning out much better, alone at 5:00 sharp, with his toast that he had made, and his jam. It made it's way into his mouth, the sweetness of the berry mixing with the crunchiness of the toast. It went down smoothly, and he cleaned up and exited before the half hour mark, when Engineer would be getting up.  
  
He went back to his room, drank a little, had a cigarette, and started his day as usual. Refilled his disguise kit with some more cigarettes, making sure that they were ignitable. He got his scarf on, double-checked his pistols, sharpened his butterfly knife. By the time the match had started, he felt more like his old self again, and more to the cold-hearted killer he had to be.  
  
The Spy started the match normally.  
  
Six points in, the BLU team seemed like it was starting to pull into the lead, when the Spy was grazed by an arrow. This was a familiar feeling, but the arrow had missed him just enough to where he knew it was intentional. And when that arrow had staked itself into the wooden walls behind him, the safety net and the emotional claw trap he had made on everything snapped; he felt that monster gnawing at his core again.  
He looked up to where the arrow had originated, and the glint of yellow aviators found their way. The RED Sniper, with his fluffy ushanka hat and scarf, his hoodie on with a vest. He waved gently, Sir Hoots a Lot perched nearby him.  
  
The BLU Spy looked around, making sure things were safe, before he gave a nervous smile and waved. It was a risk he took; he could've been shot at any moment. He cloaked and ran before he could be, the RED Sniper seeming to avoid shooting the Spy if he could help it.  
By the end of the match, the RED Sniper had shot the BLU Spy a whopping total of 2 times; an all-time low, considering the two were usually in this unspoken rule of kill or be killed. It had sparked something in the Spy, something he hadn't felt in a really long time.  
He felt, oddly enough, a partial appreciation. Or, at least, what registered as appreciation.  
  
_Day 4_. They started a match. It was early in the morning. The match went by slowly, almost as slow as the snow that was gently falling that day. That day, Spy could've sworn he saw the Sniper winking at him before he died due to the Pyro that had been stalking him. And when he was burning, he could swear he could feel that RED Sniper's anguish. Or perhaps it had been his imagination.  
  
When he came to respawn, he watched the counter. They needed one more point to win. By the time he got outside, the ringer had gone off; BLU had one for that day. It gave him the opportunity to do what he had been planning in his head for a quite a bit that day.  
  
He made his way, saying he wanted to kill the Sniper. He climbed up the stairs of that little building, the snow carrying with his shoes, as he put his butterfly knife away. He could hear the lighting of a cigarette, and he made his way to the top; the Sniper sat on a crate, feet up in the window, his sniper rifle leaned against the window almost as carelessly as the man who owned it was sitting. Sir Hoot's a Lot sat perched nearby, tilting his head at the Spy.  
  
The Spy kept a hand to his knife, mostly in his coat pocket, looking to the Sniper. The RED Sniper grinned, taking a hard drag out of his cigarette, before blowing the smoke out the window.  
  
"So." He said, "Come up here to kill me?"  
  
The Spy let out a chuckle. "Perhaps. Or perhaps this could take another turn, depending on your responses."  
  
"Mhm. Kinda knew that was how it was gonna be." The Sniper sighed out, his smile revealing that sharp canine of his. He tilted his head back a little to glance at Sir Hoots a Lot, who fluffed his wings out and cooed at Sniper in disgust of the cigarette. His breathy laugh emitted from his throat, one that made the BLU Spy blush a little, a smile pulling at his lips. It was the cause of that monster from a few days ago; gnawing at his very being, pulling his layers away to allow him the ability to laugh.  
  
The Sniper got a smile out of that, too; a wide one at seeing the Spy laughing so lovely. Like water against a silky fabric, just like the Spy's entire personality. The ringer was going off for Mercenaries to return, and the Sniper put his cigarette out on the window. He gave a hand gesture to the Spy to step closer, and the Spy hesitated. His hand still on his blade, he stepped forward.  
  
The Sniper got up, moving a little closer to the Spy. He pulled a Kukri out, and the Spy automatically pulled his butterfly knife out. The two of them both pulled blades up around the same time, the blades pressed against the opposing man's throats. The Australian grinned, and the Frenchman looked confuzzled. Only for a moment was he confused, before the Sniper leaned a little closer.  
  
"Let's settle this later, yea? We best be goin' before the teams start to wonder where we went." The Sniper spoke, the nicotine from his recent cigarette being the only scent besides dust the Spy could smell on the man. The Sniper pulled back, their arms untangling as he gathered his rifle. The Spy swallowed, and scurried out with his cloaking device.  
Christ. The Spy thought to himself, as he ran back to his base.

* * *

 Later that night, the Spy found himself wandering back over to the RED base. He dared not to enter it, or their alarm would go off. The snow was still falling, ever so softly against his shoulders, everything in it's path turning a pure white that was almost blinding if it hadn't been for the extremely dim lighting that hadn't been changed outside in almost ten years. They kept it easy for the BLU Spy to make his way to the back, where the RED Sniper always had his camper van parked.  
  
When he saw the van in the distance, he for some reason felt his legs stopping, his body moving to put his back to the nearby wooden wall. It was cold and dead, hollow wood that was on the outside of a majority of buildings in their vicinity. He let out a shiver, a warm breath that caused the smoke-like vapor to appear out in front of his mouth. The tip of his nose felt cold.  
  
Not only that, but for some reason, he was starting to feel something that wasn't cold inside of himself. That monster that was pulling at him, had stopped scratching. Now it was burning, warm and softening whatever it was that was keeping him from expressing things before. And just at a thought of that weird bushman, who was tall, gangly, boxy... his heart skipped a tiny beat. That smile of his that had his canine poke out, the breathy laugh that he had due to smoking, the way his hands always gripped the sniper rifle like it was his last resort. Little things that made the Spy's heart start to melt a little bit faster. But he decided sentimentality wasn't the best right now, shoving those thoughts back into the steel, frozen box they had always been in, and started walking towards the van.  
  
Whatever those feelings were, they weren't being pulled out by a monster. They were being pulled out by the Sniper, in a dangerous game that he had started unintentionally. And if they were to stop, well... Spy wouldn't like the answer, and his faith in humanity wouldn't, either.  
He found his gloved hand not touching the door. It was just before it, just about to knock. But he could hear the coo of Sir Hoots a lot, and the van shook a bit. The Spy stepped back, confused. Perhaps the Sniper had been asleep? If he had been, that explained why the lights were off in the back. But he would've seen some assortment of movement inside, wouldn't he?  
  
The Sniper appeared from the side of the van, a cigarette in the side of his mouth. He had his scarf on over a hoodie that he had, which had fluffy fur on the inside. It was a nicer change from what he had on earlier that day; it looked cozy. Meanwhile, the Spy was only snuggled in his scarf and his usual outfit. The thing that made the Spy laugh a little internally was the red legwarmers the Sniper had decided to sport over his boots; they looked like they were cotton, and were probably going to get soaked, considering the work boots probably sucked up water like a fish dying of thirst.  
  
The Spy found his throat had turned dry, and he swallowed, trying not to realize the irony of his past thought in comparison to his situation. Maybe it wasn't that _fish_ dying of thirst.  
  
The Sniper gave a grin to the awkwardness of the Spy, who normally seemed suave. He took the cigarette from his mouth, and motioned at the van.  
  
"... You, wanted to 'settle this', oui?" The Spy muttered, taking all of his thoughts and bubbling those as well. Act calm, Rene. You are a professional, not a girl in middle school. It elicited a laugh out of the Sniper, which threw the Spy off a little.  
  
"Yea, sure. Come on, just hop on the other side of the van. I ain't doin' nothin' till we get off this damn property." The Sniper said, dropping his cigarette into the snow, and putting it out with the tip of his boot. He turned away, walking to the driver's side of the camper. The Spy hesitated, taking his own disguise kit out to check and make sure he had enough cigarettes for the night. If he were to be killed, they'd better remember what cigarettes he ordered, so he'd be buried with those beauties.  
  
The Spy decided to go along with their game, for now, as he stepped around the van to enter the passenger side. He realized very quickly that the emitted owl noises were coming from between the seats, where Sir Hoots a Lot had his own pillow, right behind the stick shift. The Spy let out a sigh, sitting up straight and looking to the Sniper as he sat down and shut the door. The Sniper dug in his pockets for the keys, his tongue sticking out a little from the side of his mouth as he did so. It struck the Spy as a cute, minor quirk.  
  
The Sniper started the van, and that was when the Spy finally spoke up.  
  
"So, where do you plan on going?" The Spy asked.  
  
"Anywhere but here." The Sniper said, "Prolly ain't safe to be here."  
  
The Spy nodded, "Just don't kill me."  
  
The Sniper grinned, letting out a breath as he backed the van out of the snow hole it had, and drove from the driveway of the open gates to the open roads, covered in snow, dirt, and small hills. The Spy eased himself.  
  
_Safe._


End file.
